Drifting
by OvercookedNoodles
Summary: When a power outage hits London, Sherlock and John are forced to keep close in order to keep warm. But getting close can really make a person think.
1. Chapter 1

It all started with an acrid blizzard that knocked out power to the entire southern part of England. The temperature had dropped to -10 Fahrenheit, power boxes and lines were completely unsalvageable due to the amount of damage the harsh weather conditions, and the only way to get into your car was to chisel away at the handle. The power had gone off at around 9am. It was the worst storm the country had seen in years. Everything was shut down and everyone was to stay put in their homes. This news rained, or rather snowed, on Sherlock's parade. Sherlock and John were supposed to go out to Liverpool today to do a case. Obviously, that wasn't going to happen. Sherlock moped and whined about how bored he was, and he almost drove John up the wall with his pacing and spastic violin playing. For the first time ever, John had actually wondered why and how he put up with all of Sherlock's shenanigans. But that thought quickly dissipated when Sherlock brought him some tea after he noticed John shivering profusely. By noon, the temperature in the flat was close to 30 f. The pair huddled together around the fireplace, which wasn't doing much. Finally, at around 10, they decided to turn in, since they would be somewhat warm in their own beds. As John was about to go into his own room, he heard Sherlock calling him from his room. John entered and found Sherlock all wrapped up like a human cocoon. It was quite humorous, really.

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Come here" he beckoned. He gestured to the empty side of the bed.

Even with one candle in his room being the only light source, you could clearly make out how red John turned.

"O-okay."

John slowly shuffled over to Sherlock's bed before slowly getting in. It was warm… and it smelled like Sherlock. As John settled in, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and pulled him close, encasing them in the sheets. John blushed more profusely than he already was. The two had never been this close before. John was so close to Sherlock's chest that he could hear his heartbeat and take in his intoxicating scent. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around Sherlock and nuzzled into his chest. John's heartbeat was going a million miles a minute, he was quite sure that Sherlock could hear. Yet Sherlock made no recollection as to acknowledging it. Instead, he rested in head upon John's. At this point, John was about to lose it. The moment was so perfect that nothing could ruin it; the two just laying down so close, legs wrapped around another, holding each other so intimately, even if John was the only one who felt this way. He felt like Sherlock had put him under an unbreakable spell. He never wanted this moment to end. Unable to stop himself, he buried his head deeper into Sherlock's evenly rising chest. He took another whiff of Sherlock's intoxicating musk. It was so unique and so sensulalizing that no other human could have a scent quite like it. He started to wonder what would happen if he confessed. Would Sherlock get angry? Walk away? The thoughts were soon drowned out by his drowsiness, and he quickly fell asleep, plummeting him into a variety of dreams that would help make up his mind about the whole ordeal.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Hey guys! Sorry for not updating any of my stories.

I'm trying to get better at that. -_-

Anyways, I'm going to try and update this fic daily, so you guys won't be disappointed.

Thanks for reading :D

Ch 2

The first dream began as a walk in downtown London. Sherlock was by his side, and they were walking in unison. It was peaceful and intimate. Sherlock looked content as he strode by his friend's side, which made John smile. Sherlock seemed relaxed and comfortable, which eased John. The two talked for a while as they walked, and John couldn't help but acknowledge that overwhelming feeling of being close to Sherlock. His being was intoxicating and it was smothering John's ability to think clearly. He couldn't take it anymore. He stopped walking, and Sherlock did the same.

"Something's on your mind.", Sherlock said.

"What gave it away?"

"Body language. You tensed up just now"

"Ahh. Well, yes. T-there is something I want to talk about."

"I'm listening."

"Uh… well. You're a good friend and all, but I kind of want to be more."

Sherlock's face dropped.

"What?"

"I, uh, love you…Sherlock." He smiled awkwardly.

Sherlock said nothing for a while, his eyes screaming out horror.

Finally, he broke the defening silence.

"John, I never want to see your face again. What you just said ruined what we had. Have your things packed by tomorrow morning. I want you out of my flat and out of my life."

John felt his heart break at those words.

"Sherlock…"

"Look, its not that I hate you. I just don't have those feelings for you. It'd be very awkward to live with each other, and that could only make things worse. Goodbye, John."

He turned around on a dime and walked rather quick.

John stood there for a while, letting it all sink in, before he realized that Sherlock was walking away.

"Sherlock, wait!", John called, chasing after him. But Sherlock was too far ahead. He was already getting into a cab. He gave John one last look, full of sadness and pain, before he shut the cabbie door. Then he was gone.

John watched in despair as the cab drove off. He could do nothing. Sherlock slipped through his fingers because he decided to confess. He regretted telling him and hated himself for it. He crouched down and put his head in his hands, not knowing what life would be like without his love.

John suddenly awoke, still in Sherlock's bed. He was in a cold sweat, and was clutching onto Sherlock as if his he was going to somehow be taken away. He looked up to check Sherlock. Sherlock was still fast asleep, looking amazing as ever. John smiled in relief and laid his head back down. He checked his watch. Only 45 minutes had gone by. So the dream wasn't THAT long, but it sent a message to John, which made him really consider telling Sherlock. He sighed and closed his heavy eyes. All that thinking made him sleepy, and so he drifted off into sleep again, plummeting him into yet another scenario dream.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

The second dream started at the roof of a building, also in London. They were investigating a crime where a guy got his brains blow out by his brother. They were looking around for clues, when John decided to tell Sherlock. Just… out of the blue.

"Sherlock…I love you."

Sherlock had his back to John, and he spun around face him, with a confused look on his face.

"Oh…"

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

Sherlock's face became full of pain and melancholy, similar to the one he had in the last dream, except this time, he looked as if he was going to disappoint John, and he wasn't going to exactly enjoy doing so.

"Well, you're a little too late, John."

"What?"

"Me and Molly," he murmured.

John's heart collapsed. _Sherlock and Molly? __**When? **_

"W-what? When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to."

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN TOGETHER?" At this point, John was screaming. He was furious that his friend wouldn't have told him earlier about his dating life.

"Only a few days."

John's jaw dropped. He was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions. He didn't know whether to be crestfallen, enraged, confused, or envious. He looked down at his feet, completely embarrassed.

"You know, I _did_ have feelings for you at one point, John."

John's head snapped up. Well _that_ caught his attention.

"Really?"

"Yes, I would have told you, but you seemed too preoccupied with other women. But I lost interest and found somebody else."

John was speechless. Out of all people… _Molly?_ Sherlock was _so_ out of her league.

John realized that his fantasy of him and Sherlock being together was impractical.

"So, can we just forget this ever happened?"

"Absolutely."

"And nothing has changed? You still consider me a friend? Your view of me hasn't changed?"

"Why would any of that change?"

At those words, John felt a little more happy, even though he was still heartbroken.

He was about to say something else, but at that moment, he woke up.

His eyes flew open as he awoke, and nothing had changed.

He closed his eyes back again and began to doubt.

Was this his brain's way of telling him that it wasn't a good idea?

Was it really worth all of that aggravation and pain?

Was he being irrational about all of this?

Was it worth risking the loss of his best friend?

Did Sherlock feel the same way towards him?

The truth would set him free… but, what WAS the truth?

Soon after doing a bit of thinking, he drifted back off, into yet another scenario.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

The next dream started out as if it was being rushed.

No, it WAS rushed.

John and Sherlock were sprinting down the sidewalk.

"Quickly, John! He's gaining on us."

"Who?"

"No time to explain."

Suddenly, 2 gun shots rang through the air. And they were close. John looked back and sure enough, there was a gunman chasing them. It was evident that shit had hit the fan some time ago, and now the criminal had turn the tables.

"Sherlock! What's going on?"

"I'll tell you later. Just keep running."

The two dashed down a hill and jaywalked through a busy intersection, dashing in between cars, and onto the other side of the street on the sidewalk.

"Sherlock, if you don't give me an explaination-"

Another shot rang out into the night, except this time it took down Sherlock.

He fell forwards, flat on his face , blood already spurting from his chest from the gunshot wound.

"SHERLOOOCK!"

John bent down and turned him over. He was barely alive.

"John…", he said weakly.

John could already feel tears flooding his eyes and falling down his face.

"Sherlock…"

John clung onto Sherlock as tight as he could.

"John…", he said again, except this time, after hill said it, he slowly put his hand on John's cheek.

"Oh, Sherlock, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. In fact, I'm actually glad that you were by my side during my final moments."

"Don't say that! We'll get you out of here right now, and we'll go get help."

"John. You and I both know that it's not going to end like that."

Sherlock was right. John just didn't want to think about that. But why was he trying to push away the reality that was right in front of him.

"I'm so happy that you're here with me."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because I love you."

"…S-Sher-"

"And I always have. I just never got the guts to tell you. And I regret using my final moments to do so."

John was both ecstatic and grieving over those words.

A weak smile appeared on John's face.

"Oh, Sherlock. I have always loved you, as well."

Sherlock closed his eyes and smiled. A single tear rolled down his eye.

"That's what I've been dreaming to hear my entire life. It's music to my ears, and it's the last thing I do want to hear. Thank you."

And with that, he took one last final breath.

"Sherlock? Sherlock, you there?", John whispered, on the verge of a breakdown.

No response.

"Oh, Sherlock!", he sobbed, finally losing it, He buried his head in Sherlock's chest, not caring if Sherlock's blood got all over him. He wanted Sherlock back. He couldn't live without Sherlock. And now the only thing he had left of Sherlock was the fact that they could have had what they both dreamt of long ago. That, and the regret of not doing it. He didn't even notice the medics coming to take Sherlock's lifeless body away, or the police trying to console him, or Lestrade and everyone else trying to get him on his face. Sherlock was gone. And he had taken a piece of John with him.

John woke up with tears running down his face. His eyes flashed open and he sat up to check on Sherlock. He was still asleep, looking angelic as ever. John breathed a sigh of relief and fell back onto his pillow. Thank _GOD_ it was just a dream. He then closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

And for one last final time, he would have a dream that would put his decision on the line.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

The last dream started out as if it were just a view on John's everyday reality. It was on an ordinary evening at 221 B Baker Street. John was at his laptop, typing away and updating his blog, while Sherlock was yelling at the TV. John wasn't really paying attention to what he was typing, until he saw what the blog title was

'How I REALLY feel about Sherlock Holmes'

John turned a bright scarlet and turned to see if Sherlock had seen. Obviously not. He was too fixated on the telly.

John turned back to his screen and scanned what he had written.

Oh my GOD. It was like feisty tell-all, about what he felt for Sherlock, and all the things he wanted Sherlock to do to him, vice versa.

It was so sensual, and so teenage-ish. As if he were a 16 year old girl gushing about her crush to all of her friends.

He had enough of keeping it all bottled up. He finally turned around in his chair, took a deep breath, and let it all out.

"Umm… Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"There's something I want to talk to you about."

No response.

"Remember that night at the café, how you said that…"

"Yes, I remember."

John knew that Sherlock could see straight through him. So, instead of just sugar coating it, he went straight to the point.

"I love you, Sherlock. I have always loved you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one. I've been so infatuated with you that its so hard just to be around you without going crazy. Yes, I know this is sudden, but it's just been on my chest for so long, and I thought that it needed to be said. So, there. I said it."

He blushed furiously and refused to look at Sherlock.

There was a long pause. Oh shit. He'd done it. It was all over.

He was about to start an apology, when he was interrupted by Sherlock's mouth locking with his.

Oh. _Oh._

Oh, yes. _This_ is what he wanted. This is what he had been longing for. Too bad it was only a dream.

Sherlock's mouth melted into his. Tongues crashing, hands exploring, the intoxication overwhelmed them.

"Sherlock…", John breathed, after they parted, still clutching onto one another. He was so baffled but so aroused at the same time.

Sherlock only chuckled.

"So does this mean that everything has changed now?"

Sherlock smiled and placed a kiss on John's forhead.

"Only for the better.", he whispered.

And with that, he swooped John up and carried them to his bedroom, where they made passionate love.

And this time, when John woke up, he was disappointed. He never wanted that dream to end.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch 6

So now John was stuck with a dilemma. Well, make that a few dilemmas. First off, he had a hard on. Second, he was faced with his decision to whether or not tell Sherlock. Lastly, he couldn't fall back to sleep. His heart was still racing from the last dream, his head was racing, and he had his annoying boner. So he just lay there, looking at Sherlock. Should I tell him?, he thought. He now had all of the scenarios of what could happen if he did. It was quite a risk either way, even if Sherlock's response was positive or negative. It was double or nothing. This was it. Now or never. John decided to go in for the kill and risk it all, seeing what was at stake here and its value to him. It was worth a shot. So he waited until Sherlock woke up, which was about an hour later, considering that John woke up from his dream at around 6 am.

"Mmm… morning, John."

_Damn_, did he look _fine_ in the morning. And the way he sounded when he first woke up.

"Morning."

The two were still wrapped around each other, except they were facing one another. Sherlock's clear blue eyes were on John's. John felt as if Sherlock was reading his soul with that stare. It was so… hypnotizing. For a moment, the two just lay there, intertwined, staring deeply and compassionately at each other, not saying a word. It was spellbinding.

Finally, John maned up. He shook himself from the daze and prepared himself. Here we go.

"Sherlock… there's something I want to tell you."

He said nothing in return, but his steady eyes whispered, "Please tell me."

"I love you. I always have been. You're everything to me and I can't stand to live without you. And I'm willing to accept the consequences for saying this."

With a straight face and without breaking his stare, he had uttered these words. He was now preparing himself for anything. Good or bad. Anything could happen, and he was willing to suffer any consequences.

He waited. Finally, Sherlock pulled him closer, and this time, his eyes were full of passion and desire. It put John under another spell, except this time, more hypnotizing.

He then pulled him into a deep and fiery kiss, unlike anything John had ever dreamed about. _Yes. This _is what he had dreamed about. This is what he longed for ever since the day that they met. It was like his last dream, except 100% better and this time, it was real. Tongues sparred, hands roamed, and they rolled around in the sheets. Sherlock held back nothing, and neither did John. Sherlock kissed him tenderly, and moans escaped both of their mouths. Sherlock's touch burned like fire. He kissed all around John's face and neck. Captivated by his charm, John pulled him closer and leaned his head back so Sherlock had more access to it. Sherlock then rolled them onto their (or rather John's) backs. Oh god. They were really doing this. Sherlock slowly began to unbutton John's PJ top. When his chest was exposed, Sherlock began to plant kisses all about it. Ever so slowly, his worked his way down John's stomach, until he reached the rim of John's PJ bottoms. Looking up just for a second to give John sexy bedroom eyes, he bit down on the hem and slid them down. _Damn_ did he look sexy when he was doing that. When the pants were off, Sherlock began to strip himself. He had such an amazing body, John couldn't wait to get his hands all over it. Finally, they were both down to their trousers, still underneath the covers, and they had hands all over each other. Sherlock was so intoxicating. John needed _more. _

"Sherlock…", John whined.

Sherlock stopped mid kiss on John's neck, and looked up at him.

His eyes were so loving, compassionate…warm.

And so he shed both of them of the remaining articles of undergarments and arched over John.

God, Sherlock was even more gorgeous than before. He practically _glowed_.

He wondered what he looked like to Sherlock.

"Do you...". John asked.

"Yes.", Sherlock replied automatically, reaching for his nightstand drawer. Wow. For someone who wasn't into relationships, Sherlock sure knew how to be prepared. Or had he been planning this all along? It didn't matter now. The only thing that mattered was that Sherlock was John's and John's alone, and they were about to share something magical together. After rummaging around for a while through the drawer, Sherlock finally pulled out some lube.

John braced himself, taking a deep breath and spreading his legs.

He was ready. No amount of pain could surpass the pain he would have gone through if one of the less positive scenarios would have played out.

John gasped when he felt Sherlock's fingers spread the cold lube around his hole.

"Are you ready?", Sherlock whispered lovingly into John's ear, right when he finished preparing him.

"More than I ever have been in my entire life.", John replied shakily. They both chuckled at the comment, gazing at each other right in the eyes before Sherlock kissed him and sat back up.

He spread John's legs even further, which made John moan due to the slight pain. Sherlock inserted one finger into John, causing some pain in John. He let out a cry, and Sherlock stopped immediately.

"N-no. Keep going."

And so Sherlock did. Then with two fingers. Then with three. He searched around for John's prostate, until he finally hit it when John let out a deep moan. After teasing John a bit, he finally pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his dick. He went in ever so slowly, because he saw John as being fragile and he didn't want to break him. At first, the pain was unbearable.

"Sherlock, can you let me get comfortable for a bit?"

He did so and let John do his thing, until John finally got situated.

When he did, he went in slowly.

John let out moans and groans when Sherlock started to move around.

Then Sherlock sped up, thrusting hard and fast into John. John's name escaped Sherlock in groans and huffs, while 'I love you' escaped John every so often, in between moans. The two could feel the passion. This _couldn't_ be real. It was just another one of john's dreams. But every kiss and every thrust let John know that this was indeed as real as it got. Sherlock stroked him lovingly and caressed John, feeling him up as he kept on thrusting. John clung to him as if he were going to go away. The two held onto each other as they kept going. Not a force in the universe could keep them apart. Finally, they both came at once, falling down onto the pillows, gasping and slick with sweat in the sweet afterglow. Sherlock pulled John into a hug and whispered.

"I love you more than life itself, John Watson. I promise to love you and be there for you until the end of time."

John blushed and snuggled his head into Sherlock.

"The same as well. I'll never leave your side."

And with that the two slowly drifted off to sleep, in the afterglow and the pinkish dusk glow from the snow outside.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch 7

Beams of sunlight shone through Sherlock's window and onto John's back, warming him up. John stirred in Sherlock's arms.

"Hey, John." He said.

John opened his eyes slowly and looked up at Sherlock. They were both still intertwined and John could tell that the power had kicked back on hours ago. But that didn't mean that he wanted to leave this bed, just because it was finally warm in the flat. Nope, he wasn't going anywhere. And neither was Sherlock.

"Hey, Sherlock."

The two stared at each other for a bit before kissing tenderly.

When they broke, John rested his head on Sherlock's torso and asked, "Things are different now, aren't they?"

Sherlock smiled and smoothed his hair.

"Well, they are going to be a lot more personal now."


End file.
